Highlander Besieged (Highland Adventure Book 10) Read online

"I do miss him." Her son was ten summers but exceptionally mature for his age. The last time she'd visited with him, he was a couple of inches taller and behaved like a confident young man. She had not wanted to send him off to school, but he was already a baron. Before she knew it, he would be old enough to run his own estate.

  As for society… Elspeth shrugged. 'Twas a way of life for her as she drifted between social stations. Men didn't like that she was an independent lady and business owner. Some women saw her as a threat, while others wanted to be like her. No one, except Rose, knew or cared what she'd been through, what had forced her to be strong enough to survive, and now to support herself.

  She had been friends with Rose since her first visit to the dress shop. They were both widows around the same age and shared many interests. Although Rose was a countess, she treated Elspeth as an equal and didn't look down on her for her less than ideal past.

  "We already decided you need more aristocratic ladies as customers," Rose reminded her. "Most of them have no inkling your shop exists."

  "Aye, but I cannot tell them I'm a dressmaker and wish them to be patrons of my shop. 'Twould be the height of rudeness."

  "There is no need to mention it. If one of the ladies asks where your exquisite gown was made, you simply tell her your own seamstress created it at your shop in Aberdeen. And by the way, I am drooling over that gown. I'm going to order one just like it."

  "Indeed?" Glancing down at her emerald green gown, Elspeth grinned, thrilled as always when anyone complimented a dress she'd designed.

  "A different color, perhaps. The green is a perfect contrast for your ginger hair, but I think deep wine red would suit me."

  Feeling inspired at the images flitting through her head, Elspeth nodded with enthusiasm. "'Twould be beautiful with your dark hair."

  "We saw none like them in Paris last year. You have a unique gift."

  "I appreciate your kind words." Elspeth had gone with Rose and their servants to Paris the year before. While there, she had met a wonderful new supplier of cloth and patterns.

  "I hope you brought several of your designs to wear, as I did. Once Calla sees the styles you create, she will order a dozen."

  Hope and anticipation surged within Elspeth. She already knew that Calla was the countess, the Earl of Rebbinglen's wife. "Do you truly think so?"

  "Of course. She only had a bairn a short while ago. She will be wanting a new wardrobe soon. Rebbie's good friends, Chief and Lady MacKay, have also been invited. And then there is Lily. Her father is trying his hardest to find a suitable husband for her. She'll need a wedding gown and an entire new wardrobe to take to her new home."

  Excitement buzzed like a hive of honeybees through Elspeth's veins. She could already imagine the elaborate silk gowns these wealthy ladies would require, and she was eager to design them. "Who is Lady Lily going to marry?"

  "Thus far, she has not met a man to her liking. The marquess insists that she marry an earl or better."

  "'Tis wonderful that he allows her to approve the man. I certainly didn't have that privilege when I married Grey."

  "Nor did I," Rose muttered. "Neither of us would've chosen husbands old enough to be our fathers."

  "Or grandfather."

  "Aye, I forgot Grey was in his fifties."

  "And I was sixteen summers. Just a naïve child, really."

  Rose shook her head. "I wish we had known each other back then. We could've commiserated over our gruesome wedding nights."

  Elspeth nodded, glad she no longer had to allow any man into her bed. "I'm thrilled to be done with that duty."

  "Well, 'haps one day you will discover bedsport is not meant to be gruesome nor a duty." Her friend sent her a mischievous grin.

  "Ha, doubtful."

  Rose appeared sly of a sudden.

  Realization dawning, Elspeth felt her mouth drop open. "Is that why you're attending this gathering?"

  Rose shrugged. "You never know when you will meet an attractive man. By the way, a new earl will be at the gathering. The family is hoping he will measure up to Lily's expectations. And I've been told he's bringing a couple of his brothers."

  "A new earl?"

  "Aye, he is newly titled. The Earl of Stornmor. A Highlander and a friend of Rebbie. He is also the brother of Lady MacKay."

  So many important people she had lost count. Her stomach felt even queasier than before. "Good heavens. What if they find out about my connection to Dalacroy?"

  "No one knows, and I'm certainly not telling them."

  Gossip might have already reached them. 'Twas the ladies she worried most about. They might fear she would steal one of their husbands. But she had no interest in husbands, her own or anyone else's. She wished to steer clear of men, especially powerful, titled ones who might try to control her life or take away her properties or her independence.

  Chapter Two

  On horseback, Cyrus and two of his brothers—Dermott and Fraser—approached the imposing Castle Rebbinglen late in the evening. Dirk rode beside them. Isobel, along with the female servants and the bairn, traveled in a coach. The chiefs' bodyguards rode nearby, while the rest of the MacKenzie and MacKay clansmen and guards followed behind the coach.

  Cyrus could not believe how wide the roads were here, just inside the edge of the Highlands, but Dirk had told him that Kilverntay had hired men to make road improvements through his and Rebbie's extensive holdings over the years. This made it easier to have supplies carted in from the coast.

  Glancing up at the steely clouds hanging low in the sky, he was glad the rain had held off all day.

  He could not keep his mind from wandering back to Lady Lily and all the questions he had about her. Had she already arrived at the castle? Would he find her attractive? He hoped she would see their match as advantageous.

  Once their large party passed through the massive portcullis, a group of over a dozen people met them in the bailey. Robert MacInnis, the Earl of Rebbinglen—Rebbie to his friends—stood at the forefront of the many guards and servants. Dark-haired and wearing a belted plaid, Rebbie looked much as he had the last time Cyrus had seen him two years prior.

  Cyrus dismounted to greet him first.

  "Welcome. And congratulations on your new title, Stornmor." Grinning, Rebbie clasped Cyrus's forearm, giving him a warrior handshake.

  "I thank you, but you well ken to call me Cyrus. Unless you wish me to call you Rebbinglen."

  Rebbie laughed. "Nay, indeed. I'm glad you've all finally arrived. I expected you days ago."

  "Aye, 'twas our intent to arrive yesterday, but we ran into storms midday and had to take shelter with Chief Calhoun overnight. Several days ago, a gale forced us to row the galleys into a port north of Inverness, then continue sailing south after it was over."

  With a slight frown, Rebbie sobered. "Thank God you're all safe."

  When Dirk and Isobel approached, Rebbie turned and gave him a warrior handshake and a back-slapping embrace. "Good to see you, my friend. And you too, Isobel." He kissed her cheek. Grinning, he gently patted their sleeping son's wee head. "Congratulations on this new addition to your family. He's the image of you, Dirk."

  "Aye." Dirk gave a proud grin. "He's a wee scamp. Always into something."

  Rebbie then greeted the rest of the MacKenzie brothers, exchanging handshakes. "Where is Shamus?"

  "Happily married," Cyrus said dryly, still unable to believe his younger brother had married almost two years ago. "And watching over Teasairg Castle while I'm away."

  Rebbie chuckled. "Good for him. Come in. I wish all of you to meet my wife and children."

  They climbed the stone steps to the great hall and a petite blond lady approached, carrying a tiny babe.

  After introducing Cyrus, Rebbie wrapped his arm around the lovely woman's shoulders. "This is my wife, Calla." Rebbie's beaming smile said they were blissfully in love just as Dirk and Isobel were.

  Cyrus bowed. "I'm most pleased to meet you, Lady Rebbinglen."

 
She grinned and bobbed a curtsy. "Please call me Calla."

  Rebbie introduced each of the newcomers, and Cyrus had no idea how she could remember so many names.

  Rebbie pulled back the blanket from the newborn's face. "And this wee lad is my heir, William, named after my father."

  Isobel pushed forward to get a closer look. "Ooh, he's adorable."

  "I'm certain he'll be a strong warrior like you one day," Cyrus said.

  Rebbie motioned to the small fair-haired lass of about one that a nursemaid held in her arms nearby. "This is our daughter, Katherine." He then placed his hands on the shoulders of a lad of around eight summers who stood in front of him. "And this is our son, Jamie."

  Even though Dirk had already told Cyrus in secret that Jamie was, in truth, Rebbie and Calla's firstborn son, only close friends were allowed to ken the truth of it. To everyone else, Jamie was Rebbie's stepson. Cyrus was amazed at how much the lad resembled Rebbie.

  Jamie bowed respectfully, and then Cyrus shook his hand, impressed that he already possessed a strong grip. The lad had been an earl longer than Cyrus.

  Dirk shook his head, bemused. "You were a confirmed bachelor the last time I saw you, and now you have a lovely wife and three children. You have been busy, my friend."

  Rebbie chuckled. "Indeed."

  "Ha," Isobel blurted. "Calla is the one who has been busy."

  They all laughed at that, while Calla smiled and agreed, apparently thrilled to be a wife and mother. Would Cyrus's own future wife be as content in her role?

  After Dirk introduced wee Griff, still sleeping on Isobel's shoulder, Calla motioned to her. "Come. I've had a nursery set up for your use." They proceeded across the great hall toward the stairs. The maid carrying their wee daughter followed, while Jamie ran toward the bigger children in the corner.

  "Where are Lachlan and his wife?" Dirk asked. "I'd hoped to see them."

  "They're unable to attend," Rebbie said. "Angelique is ready to deliver their second bairn at any time."

  "We'll have to visit them before we return home."

  While Rebbie and Dirk caught up, Cyrus glanced around the massive great hall with its stone walls, polished oak tables, gleaming silver candlesticks and many tapestries depicting historic scenes intricately woven in jewel tones. Where was Lady Lily? Surely she would appeal to him beyond her wealth and social station.

  Three ladies he didn't know descended the stairs and claimed seats near an enormous fireplace at the opposite end of the great hall. They sent furtive glances toward Cyrus and his brothers.

  Fraser moved in beside him and raised a sly dark brow, his blue eyes gleaming with interest. "I wonder which ones are unattached?" he murmured too quietly for Rebbie to hear.

  Annoyance darkening his stormy green eyes, Dermott leaned close and whispered, "Cease your skirt-chasing for a few minutes. Some of these ladies are countesses. You must show them respect."

  "I show all women respect," Fraser muttered.

  "Dermott is right," Cyrus said. "I don't wish anything to jeopardize my chances of marrying Rebbie's sister."

  "I'll be on my best behavior." The mischievous gleam in Fraser's eyes belied his words.

  Rebbie approached, grinning. "I see you have spotted the ladies."

  Cyrus gave a brief nod. "Is your eldest sister among them?"

  "Aye. Come, I'll introduce all of you." Rebbie moved forward.

  Following, Cyrus scanned the ladies, searching their faces to see who appeared honest and who seemed as if she wanted to manipulate and use him. Usually, he could spot them right away by their coy smiles.

  As they drew nearer, an elegant ginger-haired woman seized his attention. She was a beauty, still young but not a naïve lass and her expression was most serious. Her self-assured, amber-colored eyes met his for an instant, then darted away. He forced himself to glance at the other two females as he tried to guess which one must be Lady Lily. Both were dark-haired, bonny and refined, and he presumed that the more girlish one was Lily. Aye, with her dark brown eyes, she did bear a family resemblance to Rebbie.

  As the ladies all arose from their seats, Cyrus couldn't stop his gaze from venturing back to the stunning redhead, even though he was near certain she wasn't Lily.

  He had no plans of falling in love, but he did want to find his wife desirable. Begetting an heir shouldn't be too much of a chore.

  "I would like to introduce all of you to Cyrus MacKenzie, the Earl of Stornmor and Chief of Clan MacKenzie." Rebbie gestured toward him.

  Cyrus bowed.

  "And two of his brothers, Dermott and Fraser." Rebbie then motioned to the lady with brownish-black hair in her mid-twenties. "This is our cousin, Lady Rose Forbes, the Countess of Kerrimuir."

  "My laird, I'm most pleased to meet you. Please call me Rose." After a curtsy, she gave him a cheeky, flirtatious smile and freely offered her hand.

  "Cyrus." He bowed and kissed her gloved hand.

  Rebbie indicated the flame-haired beauty standing next to her. She was dressed in shimmering blue silks, more befitting a queen or princess, with twinkling jewels and pearls draping onto her creamy throat and décolletage. "This is Lady Elspeth Seton, Baroness Grey, a friend of the family."

  Having his suspicions confirmed, Cyrus wanted to curse that she was not Lily. Besides that, she was most likely married.

  "My laird." She curtsied and he noticed she hadn't invited him to call her by her given name.

  "My lady." Cyrus bowed and kissed her gloved hand. When her luscious scent washed over him, his body quickened with carnal interest, and he barely suppressed a curse. What the devil was that complex, alluring scent? He could not identify it, but he wanted to drown in it. Reluctantly, he released her hand.

  Rebbie motioned to the fresh-faced, dark-haired girl. "This is my eldest sister, Lady Lily."

  The lass was pretty, with big brown eyes, but she didn't smile. Instead, she blanched and looked at him in the way many women did, as if she feared him.

  'Haps he wore the wrong expression. He forced a smile and tried to appear friendly. 'Twas simply that this meeting was of utmost importance to him and he took it all very seriously.

  "Lady Lily, 'tis my great honor to finally meet you." Cyrus bowed over her hand and kissed it.

  Her face shifted from pale to blushing pink in a matter of seconds. He approved of her shy glance, which proclaimed her naïve. Not coy in the least, thank the saints. But her smile appeared as strained as his felt.

  Lady Lily curtsied. "My laird, I'm pleased to meet you."

  "Please call me Cyrus—all of you."

  "If you will excuse us, I'm going to offer my friends a wee dram before supper." Rebbie bowed, as did Cyrus and his brothers.

  Again, Cyrus glanced over the ladies and wanted to skewer himself when his eyes lingered longest on Lady Grey. Hellfire, what was wrong with him? She was most likely wed to a baron… either that or she was a widow. What difference did it make? He forced himself to turn away and follow his brothers. Regardless of her marital status, she was not the daughter of the marquess, and he must put her from his mind.

  ∞∞∞

  Stunned, Elspeth watched the MacKenzie men stride away, their matching plaids swinging above their muscular calves, and their wide leather belts cinched above narrow hips.

  "Good heavens, such broad shoulders." Rose fluttered a fan before her flushed face. "Too many fine-looking men to meet all at once."

  The men disappeared through a door to the side of the great hall. Cyrus MacKenzie's rumbling voice and northern Highland burr still echoed in her head. Why had his presence staggered her? He was a man like any other… or 'haps a man unlike any other was a better description.

  Certainly, he was devilishly handsome with his long midnight hair, neatly trimmed beard and dark brown eyes. A powerful man such as she wanted to avoid at all costs, and yet he had caused a startling flush of heat to cover her, head to toe, and her heart to pound within her throat. What in all that was holy had happened to her? W
as she coming down with an ague? She inhaled a deep breath, attempting to curb her strange responses.

  "That was tantalizing," Rose murmured. "Three gorgeous Highland warriors in their belted plaids. Lily, what do you think of Laird Stornmor?"

  The girl, still appearing pallid, hesitated. "Um… I'm still a wee bit speechless."

  Rose chuckled. "As am I. But I must say… if you don't want him, I'll take him."

  Lily sent her a curious glance. "I didn't ken you were searching for a husband."

  "I'm not." Rose grinned wickedly.

  Lily's mouth dropped open and she blushed. "You're scandalous!"

  Rose snickered. "I'm only teasing you, cousin. I wouldn't dream of stealing him away. But if you should cast him aside, as you have all your other suitors…" Rose shrugged suggestively.

  Elspeth again observed the doorway the men had gone through. Personally, she'd found the Earl of Stornmor highly disturbing. He was tall and brawny… good heavens, now that she thought of it, he was 'haps the tallest, brawniest man she'd ever laid eyes on. She had never seen shoulders so broad. When his potent dark gaze had met hers earlier, he'd seemed reluctant to look away, as… bizarrely… she had been. Why on earth would she wish to lock eyes with such a virile and fearsome man? He had a powerful, commanding presence that few men possessed. 'Twas no wonder the king had rewarded him with an earldom. In truth, her instincts warned her that he spelled danger on many levels.

  "What do you think of him, Elspeth?" Lily's question startled her.

  "Oh. Um… he seems… formidable."

  Lily nodded. "I agree. He's a wee bit… intimidating."

  Rose chuckled. "He's powerful. I find that a wonderful and… seductive quality. What did you think of his two younger brothers?"

  "They're indeed charming." Lily's expression brightened.

  "Aha, I see." Rose lifted a brow. "Angling for a man closer to your own age, are you?"

  Lily shrugged, looking chagrinned. "I ken I'm supposed to choose a wealthy, titled husband, but sometimes I'm drawn to subtler qualities, like kindness, charm and a sense of humor."

  "I cannot see your father allowing you to marry someone who's untitled."